The Boy On The Mend ✓

vii. Stolen Goods

vii. Stolen Goods

Benjamin and I stood in the produce section of the grocery store closest to our place. I watched as Benjamin stared intently at the rows of different vegetables, trying to figure out what we should get. This was a massive con to not having a shopping list before going to the store; having no idea what to buy.

"What do you feel like eating this week?" Benjamin asked. We couldn't live off of fast food, no matter how much I would have loved to do so. At least according to Benjamin, the self proclaimed culinary genius out of the two of us.

"I have no idea, dude," I said. I couldn't think of a single food I wanted to eat. I could rarely think of any foods, no matter the occasion, so now that I was being put on the spot, it was even harder than normal.

Benjamin sighed and turned to look at me, his tired green eyes meeting mine. "That doesn't really help much," He said in a tone that made me wish I had been able to think of something.

I thought for a few seconds and came up with a suggestion. "How about soup?" I asked. It wasn't a super specific suggestion, but it was better than nothing.

"Chicken soup?"

I nodded. "We could also get some noodles and make it chicken noodle soup," I said. Benjamin smiled and nodded and placed some vegetables into our cart. He also picked up some fruit and salad ingredients and dropped them in.

We walked around the store and picked up the rest of the things we needed, along with an extra package of chicken so we could eat something other than soup some day. Soon enough we were at the cash registers. "It's my turn to pay for the groceries, right?" I asked just to make sure. Benjamin nodded, so I pulled out my credit card.

I paid for our things and we grabbed our shopping bags and walked out of the store. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. I figured I could check on it once we were at home.

As I switched my car into reverse, my phone buzzed again, making Benjamin raise an eyebrow. He chose not to comment on it, and we drove back home in silence.

...

Once we were finally in our apartment, I took the grocery bag Benjamin was carrying in his right hand and took it to the kitchen. I heard Benjamin lock the door and noticed him double check that it really was locked.

My phone buzzed again, now for the twentieth time since we left the store, and I pulled it out of my back pocket. My mother was calling. "Okay, dad died," I thought, noticing that this was the twenty first time she was calling me in the last twenty minutes.

I stepped out of the kitchen so Benjamin could have room to unpack the groceries, and answered the phone.

"Mom? What's going on?" I asked immediately. I heard the voice of my father yelling at someone on the other side. I felt relieved that he wasn't dead.